


In Exchange of Letters

by your_average_fangirl221b



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, Bucky Barnes & Peggy Carter Friendship, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Letters, Love Letters, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 05:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 9,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17016606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_average_fangirl221b/pseuds/your_average_fangirl221b
Summary: It had been 6 months since the war was won but things still didn't seem to settle down. Peggy received word from her Mother that her Father had taken ill and for her to come home immediately. Without so much as having any time to contact the one person she had been unknowingly relying for support on, she wrote a letter to one Mr. James Barnes. Civilian. Friend.The two begin exchanging letters as Peggy goes through a fear she's never felt before, meanwhile Barnes writes about a girl he had met and is falling for.Note: Based on an RP. Each chapter is a composed letter. The final chapter will be formatted properly like a story.





	1. Dear Barnes,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟸𝚗𝚍 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻  
  


𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼,  
  


I hope this letter finds you well.

I hope it's not too forward of me to write to you either, after all, you did suggest to keep in contact if either of us found ourselves a little out of communications reach.

Unfortunately, such a thing has occurred. Father took ill recently and Mother needs some assistance around the house. Though, I must admit the house is far too big for the two of them. They're getting on in age, Barnes, and what if one were to have a fall? I can't predict where my work will take me nor will I always be there to suddenly come home as I have done now.

However, if I were to put forth such a suggestion, I am given the excuse that it's been their home for over fifty years. They refuse to see reason! Stubbornness Barnes! Their opinion won't be budged, and it's rather frustrating! Oh, I daresay you'll get a laugh at seeing the frazzled state my parents can reduce me to.

I ought to apologise in not being able to inform you in person. It was all very much a mad rush to come home. Now that those first few days of utter chaos has died down, I can focus on my attention in writing to you.

England's dreary at the moment. The snow has set in, but only ever so lightly. Come the next morning, it's sludge. The young neighbourhood boys clean the sludge away from the driveways and footpaths for a penny or two. Bless their young hearts...

I must keep this short, I do apologise. It was more to inform you of my sudden disappearance. Or perhaps you're having too much fun to notice?

Take care, Barnes. Please look after yourself.

Warmest regards,  
  
~ 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂


	2. Dear Peggy,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky has adopted the nickname 'Maggie' for Peggy (Because she refuses to allow him to call her 'Margaret' - only her Mother calls her that when she's in trouble.) It's a nickname that only Bucky calls her. No one else.

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟻𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

  
𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂,  
  


I'd be more insulted if you didn't write me, to be frank.  
  
I'm sorry to hear about your pops, I really hope he doesn't kick the bucket anytime soon. Do you know what he might have come down with? Taking care of another person for a good chunk of my life who got sick when the wind hit them the wrong way taught me a few things.  
  
Maybe I could give you some advice if he's not better by the time this reaches you.  
  
Unfortunately our folks do happen to get old and we can't really avoid the inevitable. Again, I really do hope for the best though when it comes to the both of them, send them good wishes for me!   
  
You better not be killing yourself over all this work, as well. I can't be there to drag you out by the collar so I trust your judgement that you'll make better choices for yourself since I can't do it for you.   
  
Things have been slow here, actually. I've been out for a few nights every now and again, but it's not as fun as it used to. A girl and I, her name is Lucille, we went out to walk the board-walk at night. It was her idea, and as much as I love Coney Island, it was a bitch walking in the cold like that. The girl wore heels! In winter! Then she complained about her feet hurting her, so we called it early. I'm kind of glad.   
  
For once I actually looked forward to going home after that. I got the furnace going that night as well and just did some sprucing up. The place I'm living right now isn't the best, per-say. But beggers can't be choosers. It's a bitch how we go and fight the war so they don't have to, and this is where we end up. The furnace acts up every now and again which leaves me cold as hell at night every now and again. I think I may have it almost entirely fixed, though! So maybe I won't freeze my ass off and become a popsicle this Christmas.   
  
They should make handbooks for shit like this. Actually, they probably do. I just don't know where to get one.  
  
Don't mind my rambling, though.  
  
Thanksgiving is coming up. I'm not sure if you really celebrate it in England, but if so, do you have any plans? At this rate, you'll probably be home with your folks, so at least I won't have to worry about you spending it alone or up to your neck in work that you deserve a break from.   
  
I'll probably go out with a few friends from work that haven't gotten locked down with a wife and kids. Probably get some drinks. Probably eat bar food and just be grateful I'm still standing.  
  
I̶ ̶m̶i̶s̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶  
I hope you're okay.   
Aside from everything you're dealing with in the moment, I do hope you're well.   
  
For the love of God, Maggie, please be taking care of yourself.  
Bucky's orders.  
You won't like me if I end up having to come to wherever the hell you are at the time because I find out you're not giving yourself the time your need.  
  
Your Friend,

  
-𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also note that Peggy never calls Bucky 'Bucky'.   
> It's always 'Barnes'.   
> Occasionally 'James' when the walls she places up begin to come down.


	3. Dear Barnes,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟷0𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻  
  
  
𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼,  
  
  
I'm delighted to hear my letter was well-received with you. I must admit, it helps fill in the lonely days. Particularly today when I received your letter. I forgot how lonely it was being back in England despite being at home with my parents.   
  
Did I not mention his illness? I must have been in such a rush to get that letter out to you in fear that you'd be in a panicked state over my disappearance. I do apologise.   
A severe case of pneumonia. The Doctor visits regularly but there isn't a lot that can be done for him except bed rest and to pray he gets better.  
  
I shall, of course, pass on your good wishes. I have told him about you. All good things, of course. He enjoys hearing stories from the States. I daresay it will perk his spirits up knowing you've sent your regards along.   
And from the unsuccessful date with Lucille I'm sure will bring a smile to his face.  
  
Though I am sorry it turned out unsuccessful and partially miserable.   
I'm sure there will be other girls, perhaps more sensible ones, who might tickle your fancy.  
  
Had I not been in such a rush to arrive in England, I would have left you a key to my apartment and you could have spared yourself the misery of a broken furnace while house-sitting for me! Nevertheless, an instruction manual would be a wise decision to invest in one. Although Christmas is just around the corner, who knows what Santa will bring you...  
  
Although Thanksgiving is coming up for you, isn't it? England doesn't celebrate it, and I know very little of the holiday, I'm afraid.   
  
Well do take care with your drinking, Barnes. I'm not there to put my foot down when it comes to you. So don't do anything stupid, or reckless under the influence.   
  
I daresay I'll be spending Thanksgiving as though it would be any other day. I'll get up in the morning, check on Father, fix myself and Mother a cup of tea before preparing breakfast while Mother gets herself ready for the day. I'll most likely encourage Father to eat something (he needs assistance eating. It's a huge blow to his male pride, I can see it in his eyes but there isn't a thing I can do to make the situation any less embarrassing for him.). After that, Mother will give Father a sponge-bath (perhaps that was too much information? My apologies.), I, myself will get ready for the day and if all is well, I'll most likely run any errands Mother needs me to. By then, she'll have dusted the house, perhaps prepare lunch and I'll most likely be doing the laundry.   
My thanksgiving will be rather riveting!   
(That was sarcasm, Barnes).   
  
Despite my thanksgiving day being spent as any old day, I do hope you enjoy yours and have fun. Make some new memories to replace the ones that rattle around in that head of yours.   
  
Oh, you're giving me orders, are you? Well, Mr. Barnes, I do not take orders from Sergeants, much less, Civilians.   
I assure you, Barnes, I did not take any work with me on this trip. My soul focus is to nurture my Father back to health.   
In saying that, please continue to take care of yourself. It will do you no good catching a cold - or worse.   
  
Take care,   
  
~ 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂


	4. Dear Peggy,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 13𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻  
  
  
𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂,  
  
  
Pneumonia? Geez. Not much someone can do for that other than cross their fingers and hope for the best. If you can get your hands on penicillin, assuming you haven't yet, it'll do wonders to help your old man. Listen for a rattle in his chest, if it gets worse or better you'll be able to tell.  
  
Steve had it real bad when we were kids, and I'd stay the night to keep him company when it got really bad and he couldn't go to school. Sarah, his ma, she had taught me a few things to make sure he was alright. I spent alot of the nights wide awake making sure he didn't die in his sleep, fortunately medicines now-a-days can help.  
  
Strongly advise penicillin.   
  
If sad stories are what tickle your pa's fancy, you can also tell him I slipped in the road yesterday on a patch of ice and fell flat on my ass. A few passer-bys tried not to laugh, but even I was laughing at how dumbfounded I felt at first. You'd probably be giggling, too.   
  
The best part? I tried to get up, and slipped again! It was like something out of those kid's comic books! I'm a very elegant gentleman, I was just keeping the ground company.   
  
Lord, don't get me started on Christmas. Let me get through Thanksgiving first, alright? I can already smell the mistletoe I won't be getting kissed under.   
  
It's a shame you don't celebrate Thanksgiving. I wish we'd known eachother prior to the war, my mother would've loved to have you. She would've made sure you had your fill and then-some, then probably brag about her infamous corn-bread.   
  
She would've liked you, keeping me in the place. I was a wild child, hard to believe, I know.   
  
Anyways, your Thanksgiving sounds more eventful than mine. I do plan on going and passing out the few blankets I've been collecting to the people I've been seeing on the streets at night. It's a shame, honestly. I don't plan on drinking myself silly this year, either.  
  
I've been meaning to tell you, there's this girl I think I've started to feel things for. We don't see each other as much as I like, and I think she has her heart set on someone else right now. But none the less, I told myself I'd start taking better care of myself for her. You'd love her, Maggie. Real sweet-heart but not like every other pretty face I've met.   
  
I tried using the ol' Barnes Charm on her before, but she didn't go for it. Made me a bit more determined, actually. I'm hoping maybe we get to see eachother again soon, but I'm not sure how well it'd go.   
  
I wonder why I have a hard time believing you didn't take your work with you to England. Peggy Carter, taking a break?! The world must be ending! You should have your mother make sure you're not the one who's fallen ill!  
  
Never the less, it's nice having your letters to look forward to. My days have been a little rougher around the edges recently, holidays tend to be now. It's nice to see a letter for me and your hand writing, even if you lecture me via postage.  
  
I'm looking forward to your next letter.  
  
Sincerely,   
  
-'𝓜𝓻. 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼'


	5. Dear Barnes,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peggy's beginning to drop the use of Bucky's last name as 'James' is placed when she writes in a more vulnerable manner.

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟸0𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻  
  
  
𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼,  
  
  
Thank you for your advice regarding my Father. Unfortunately he hasn't gotten any better, neither has he gotten any worse. I must admit, I'm not quite sure how to feel about this. I suppose him remaining as he is a blessing rather than worsening.   
We've increased the dose of penicillin (remaining within the Doctor's advice, of course). He seems to be comfortable, it's all I can hope for, for now.   
  
I should know better than to sit down with a cup of tea and read your letters! The story of you slipping on the icy road made me choke on my tea. I told Father, he doesn't have the energy to laugh but his grin was worth your misfortune. His eyes do this thing where they twinkle with amusement...m̶a̶k̶e̶s̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶m̶i̶s̶s̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶  
  
Just be careful on the roads, please. You're lucky you weren't hit by a vehicle that spun out of control. I̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶n̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶p̶e̶r̶s̶o̶n̶.̶  
You have a new girl to think about now, don't you? This clumsy behaviour of yours needs to stop before you do yourself some serious damage.   
  
Have you had Thanksgiving yet? I'm not quite sure what date it even is! If it weren't for your letters, I wouldn't even know what today's date would be! My days have blended together. I know I said I didn't bring my work with me, but I can assure you, despite my Mother not leaving Father's side, I still have quite a lot of work to do! Particularly with Christmas coming up. I ought to be starting to decorate the place, place the tree up and decorate it. Father has a ridiculous ornament that I made him when I was four years old; it even 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 like a four-year-old made it. It's hideous! I'm quite tempted to break it -   
I'm an Agent, I'm quite confident I can make it look like an accident.   
  
I'm sure both your Mother and mine would get along splendidly. My mother has a tendency to brag about her Shepherd's Pie, which I'm sure would have ended a Thanksgiving meal beautifully with your Mother's cornbread and a good cup of tea. From my very little understanding of it, I believe Thanksgiving is generally about giving thanks - correct? I would have liked to have definitely thanked your Mother for raising the gentleman that you are. I know you have your rough edges, particularly with what you've been through during the war... She would have been proud of you, James. I'm sure of it.   
  
I must admit, this girl of yours is certainly a keeper if she wasn't taken by that typical boy-charm of yours. I hope I get to meet her one day. But, even more so, I hope it works out between you and her. She must be worth it if you're determined to make changes for her. It's the holidays, Barnes, I'm sure you'll see her again soon. If I can offer advice, tell her how you feel. We both know the war is proof that life's too short. S̶t̶e̶v̶e̶  
  
The River Thames in London freezes over each Christmas and is open to the public to enjoy ice-skating activities. It's quite charming towards the last week of the Christmas holiday, particularly on Christmas Eve. I must admit, I find it somewhat amusing at seeing out local bobbies (police) out on the ice with their skates; loses their appearance of authority somewhat.   
  
Though there is a lake nearby, Old Ladywood, that's only a ten-minute drive and offers the same charming activity. Perhaps in a more intimate setting as most prefer to enjoy their time in London on the Thames.   
  
I'm actually quite looking forward to it. Not ice-skating, but just to sit and enjoy the scenery, take a quiet and peaceful moment. I will, of course, make sure to rug up warm. I wouldn't want someone to fuss over me like a Mother Hen.   
  
How are you doing Barnes? You mentioned your days have become a little more difficult. It has me worried; particularly when I can't be there to check up on you.   
  
I've been sitting on this question for a couple of days now; hence the reason why this letter is a little delayed. I didn't want to cause any unwanted feelings...  
Is it - Steve? Your first Christmas without him?   
  
Perhaps my letter is now ill-received. I do apologise.   
  
I̶ ̶m̶i̶s̶s̶  
  
Take care of yourself James, I mean it. Especially for this new girl in your life.   
  
And be careful on the roads! Particularly when you're delivering blankets at night! It's admirable what you're doing, but if your clumsiness puts your life in danger - it's not worth it.   
  
(You know, my Father said to me, 'I can't believe someone, as trained as a sniper, would fall flat on his backside! Twice!' This was yesterday, two days after I received your letter.)  
  
Take care, James.  
  
~ 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inaccuracies: the River Thames does /not/ freeze each year over Christmas. Old Ladywood Lake is just outside Birmingham, roughly a 2-hour drive. I just adored the idea of the main River freezing over and being a natural ice-skating rink. And I adored the name 'Old Ladywood Lake' ~ XD


	6. Dear Peggy,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 25𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻  
  
  
𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂,  
  
  
It's only just now dawned on me why you don't celebrate Thanksgiving. I think it's time for me to brush up on American history to avoid making a dumbass out of myself, again.  
  
I'm sorry to hear about your pops, still. I'm not much of a religious man, but I'm gonna start praying for his recovery. Hopefully he'll be spick and span before Christmas rolls around; then you can enjoy the holidays without too much worry.  
  
No worries about the cars, either. w̶h̶a̶t̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ I survived World War II as a prisoner of war and Missing in action. I'm pretty sure a car can't do that much damage, right? I'll be careful none the less though for more of your sake than mine. No need to do reckless shit for no reason.  
  
Thanksgiving just passed yesterday, actually. I went out with two guys from work - Nick and Joseph. We shared stories over drinks, I almost brought a girl home last night, as well. Now I think back on it though and I'm grateful I didn't. Finished the night off with passing out those blankets like I told you about. It was nice, actually. Making someone else's night, possibly their week. It's getting colder, the slick and snow gets worse every now and again so it's best to be prepared.  
  
It was nice though. Getting to talk to a few of them, learn a few things, too. How they end up on the streets, what it's like. It's not like I had much else better to do, right? Must admit, my body and I seemed to meet a disagreement though when I went into work the next morning.   
  
To answer your question...  
  
Yes. It's my first Christmas all alone, actually. I could accept it a small bit once my parents kicked the bucket, because I had Steve with me, we had each other. We never even did anything snazzy. Most years we didn't have a tree, and we'd get each other small gifts. I'd get him new sketchbooks or charcoals when I saved up the money. Sometimes new watercolours and calligraphy pens he'd end up using for inking. Not much for decoration, but we had each other. And that always made everything worth it.  
  
He got me whiskey-toothpaste once as a joke, a pack of smokes. If we went to Coney Island, which we did a few times on Christmas day, we got salt-water taffies with the few shops that were open in the winter.   
  
Honestly, that man could've gotten me a new pair of suspenders or a button-down and I would've been happy.  
  
Ice skating sounds like a blast if you want a bruised ass. (Hah, that rhymes a little!) I've personally only gone once when Steve and I were on a double date. Prospect Park would ice over and I'd try to get Steve to come out. Make sure he was wrapped up tight though beforehand since that man catches colds just when the wind blows on him.   
  
It was fun, but it was a long time ago. I don't think I'd be able to enjoy it as much.   
  
I'm tired, Pegs. The nights have been a lot rougher than I'd like to admit. Nightmares have gotten worse, but sometimes there's a few days where it's a little easier on me. I knew it wasn't ever gonna be easy, but I didn't really have a choice after I got drafted.   
  
The only thing getting me through it is that I do indeed have plans I'm going to try and make for Christmas. I'm working my ass off in hopes I can spend Christmas with the lovely lady who's got my heart. If I don't have to spend Christmas alone, I'm going to damn well try to avoid it. I can only hope she doesn't turn me away - It would be a shame considering it's not as easy as it sounds. I want to get her something nice, too.   
  
What would you get a gal that doesn't take shit?  
  
That's not a gun or a weapon I mean.  
  
Again, sending you, your ma, and your old man the best from New York. I'll be sure to share any more laugh-worthy stories if it brightens his day any. And 'cause I feel like I have to tell you, please be sure to take care of yourself as well. Maybe go on a walk, treat yourself to a day to spoil yourself. Drink some tea or something, maybe a biscuit. Something that British people do. (Please don't kill me, I didn't mean it)  
  
That reminds me; Do you have a favorite tea? Is there a difference really? Sorry, don't have much to go off taste-wise given I've only had it once or twice.   
  
Warm Regards,  
  
-𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂


	7. Dear James,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟸𝟾𝚝𝚑 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼,

Your prayers are deeply appreciated, I must say.   
That is our greatest concern, if Father were to pass away before Christmas. I don't think Mother's heart would be able to handle another great loss. But no point in wallowing in misery that may not happen. All that can be done is to take one day at a time.   
I'm afraid to report that he is still no better, but thankfully he hasn't worsened either. Silver linings, I suppose. 

The snow is setting in harder now, the nights are getting quite colder. I am half tempted to form the living room into a makeshift bedroom for him, it would be much warmer for him by the fire rather than constantly reheating the hot water bottle for him. This is a constant argument I have with Mother, I don't understand why she can't see the benefit of it. She's driving me utterly bonkers! Am I missing something? Perhaps there's a concern of him overheating? Is that something I should be concerned about?   
I suppose I ought to learn to keep my mouth shut and not let it go running amok when it comes to situations like these, Mother dear doesn't need the added stress, I'm sure. 

Well, I certainly hope you haven't put your theory involving the damage of cars to the test? Speaking of recklessness, how dare you even think of taking another girl home while courting another? You have a chance at happiness, James, and you very well near blew it! Of all the idiotic things I've known you to do... this has to be near the top of that list. I have a right mind to kick your backside when I arrive back at the states!  
Taking into consideration that you didn't end up taking that random nameless girl home, I might just let you off the hook - provided I don't receive a letter stating otherwise!

Nevertheless, I'm quite delighted to hear that Thanksgiving went well for you. It sounds like a holiday that England should adopt. I'm sure the homeless were very appreciative of the extra warmth provided for them and for your company too. I'm sure they've had their fair share of lonely nights. Had I known you were planning to do this, I might've been able to spare a few blankets that tend to just sit in the back of the cupboard. 

Christmas doesn't have to be 'Snazzy' James. It's not about the materialistic things. It's about each other. It warms my heart to hear that, whilst not in ideal circumstances, you and Steve still managed to find the magic in Christmas. I can't imagine Steve pranking you with Whiskey Toothpaste though. I'm sure that's a present my Father would thoroughly enjoy much to Mother's chagrin! I can guarantee you, Micheal would have certainly been on board with such an idea.

It's a pity you wouldn't enjoy ice-skating as much. I, personally, would have had a blast to see you fall on your ass (Hah, that rhymes a little!).  
But I understand. I haven't gone ice-skating since Michael... but I do enjoy quietly watching the scenery.

Oh, James. I'm truly sorry you have to suffer the way you do. I know the nightmares have gotten worse but I'm relieved to hear that there are times in between where you're able to catch a break. Unfortunately, we've all taken a piece of war home with us. I daresay you more than anyone, of course.   
Talking helps. 

I know this might sound silly, but I sometimes talk to Michael's photograph. His body never came home and whilst I visit his 'grave' to pay my respects to him as someone who died protecting our country, I don't quite see the point when it's just another cross in a field of crosses with nobody. I find the photo he took specifically for me and had chosen the frame too (god bless his soul), there's more of a connection there...

Oh, but listen to me prattle on like an old hag! I'm beginning to sound like my mother! 

Talk to someone if you're willing. Confide in this new girl of yours if you've reached that level in your relationship. I can only assume you have considering you're thinking of spending Christmas with her. A wonderful idea as I certainly don't wish for you to be alone at this time of year. 

Whilst on the subject of Christmas, you've certainly limited my options when it comes to suggesting a gift for her, Barnes! I don't see the problem with giving someone a gun or weapon. They make tremendous presents! A lady should be able to defend herself without relying on a man after all. 

What about a thigh holster? Surely you don't consider that a gun or weapon? It's very practical. I'm sure they come in many colours and designs to suit her taste.

I can't really offer much - it depends on what she likes. Does she like reading? Perhaps a book that's useful to her? Or a nice book of poetry? Perhaps you ought to start with some flowers as an apology for thinking about another girl and taking that girl home!   
Does she have a favourite perfume? Or perhaps there's a perfume that you might like on her? I'm sure she'd still appreciate it nonetheless.   
Jewellery is always a popular and safe option among women.   
Perhaps a watch if she's not a jewellery person.  
Maybe a bottle of her preferred drink (White wine, red wine, whiskey...)

However, It's like I've stated previously, Christmas isn't about material things, James. 

As for tea; yes there are differences in different brands of tea.   
There are common household teas such as Typhoo, PG Tips and Brooke Bond. PG Tips is the least expensive. Rather bland, to be honest. 

Lipton is also a common household tea though it's taste is bolder and stronger. 

Twinings offer a range of flavours such as Earl Grey, Darjeeling and English Breakfast.   
Earl Grey is lovely in the afternoon with its citrus flavouring.   
English Breakfast is enjoyable at any given time of the day, it's very robust and rich and, oh so well blended! (I had this imported from England when I struggled to find decent tea in the states).   
Darjeeling has a musky, spiciness to the flavouring. I quite enjoy it on the odd occasion when dinner parties are being hosted and company has stayed a little later than usual (21:00 onwards).

Why do you ask? Is this for you? or for your new lady? I'm quite happy to send some over as I highly doubt you'll find these back in the States.   
If it's for you, I suggest the Lipton Tea, particularly if you're awake at night. Whilst Chamomile tea is beneficial for getting back to sleep, I find the taste a little pungent. Lipton tea, I personally find, is quite calming. 

Although you mentioned once that you weren't overly keen on tea? Perhaps try with a blander-tasting tea like PG Tips and allow yourself to get used to the taste. 

Good lord, I've prattled on quite about Tea! My apologies James. I think I might take that suggested walk after all. Perhaps being confined within these walls is driving me batty!

Take care of yourself James. 

Don't go taking other girls home and risk ruining your chance at happiness! 

~ 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tea's might be a bit inaccurate for what was available in England in the 1940's, but for the sake of the story, just roll with it! In my defence, I did try to be as accurate as I could when researching this.


	8. Dear Peggy,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟷𝚜𝚝 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂,

I go out at night, yes, but it's rare I actually bring a girl home. I feel like I need to clarify that to you. Sure, they're usually extremely pretty and even enticing, but I really am not trying to blow the chances I got with this girl.

Not that they were very high to begin with. But hey, it's worth a try, right? I think I rather be rejected than sit and wonder what could have been if I never tried at all. 

Please make sure you're keeping warm. Seriously. One person is more than enough to be sick at a time, don't you think? It'd be a sight to behold, too. Peggy Carter, who seems like she might as well be invincible, catches a cold. I imagine it now, you in a bathrobe and your curlers in! Maybe some fuzzy slippers to match and a cup of tea.

I'm just joshing you, though. It really would be a shame for you to catch a cold. I haven't gotten one in a long time, despite the weather. It's strange - Not even a chill sometimes. The last time I had something even close to a cold is before I came home and you insisted on taking care of me for the time being. Since then though, not even a dry throat or a sneeze. You must have nursed me so well I can never catch another cold!

I know Christmas isn't about material things. Trust me, I know. As someone who spent a long time with nothing, you learn that. But that doesn't mean I want to do any less to get her a gift. Just want to get her something genuinely meaningful, y'know? I'm so used to looking for art related things, but as far as I'm concerned, that's not up her alley at all. Atleast not when it comes to trying her hand at it. I imagine she'd be the type who would appreciate an art museum, though. 

When it comes to the tea, it's curiosity, actually. I don't try much but you seem to like it a lot, so I thought why not, right? You're usually really good when it comes to judging things, too. I have confidence and faith in your judgement when it comes to shooting and types of tea. 

What about you? You wouldn't happen to have a secret love-life on the side I don't know about, right? Just as much as I deserve a chance of happiness, you do, too.

It's a little after 2 as I write this. My eyes feel heavy and so does the rest of my body. I'm sorry to cut this letter short, nothing has been too eventful, anyways. Work is picking up so I've been getting up earlier than normal and working later than normal.

I don't plan to drive myself in a grave, but hopefully this brings in extra money and I can live a little more comfortable for a while.

-𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂


	9. Dearest James,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: 'Dearest James' rather than 'Dear James'

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟻𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼

Do you remember the advice you gave me about listening out for a rattle in Father's chest? It occurred not long after I sent your letter. I came home and . . . oh, James, Mother and I stayed with him for the first two nights but by the third night we sent for the doctor. The diagnosis wasn't good and we've been informed to expect to say our goodbyes by Christmas.  
I̶ ̶n̶e̶e̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶

̶I̶ ̶w̶i̶s̶h̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶e̶

̶K̶r̶e̶m̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶r̶i̶g̶h̶t̶;̶

I've been rather foolish to remain optimistic about such a situation only to be struck by unfortunate news. I should have been realistic from the start and expected the inevitable. 

To be honest, I don't quite know what to do. Is there anything that can be done? I suppose not if the Doctor has already done everything he could and now it's just to await the inevitable, or pray for a miracle.  
And I pray. Every night I pray at his bed. Each night I pray harder until I feel like I'm losing my faith.   
I haven't felt this helpless since S̵t̵e̵v̵e̵ well, since a long time. I knew I would lose my parents at some point... I just didn't think it would be quite so soon. It's rather dismaying, I must admit. 

Regardless, life goes on and it is not my intention for you to receive such a depressing letter. 

I should have expected some sort of mothering from you - even if we are oceans apart. Don't ever change, Barnes. I must say, your concern put a smile on my face. Though you seemed to have painted quite the accurate picture of me when I am feeling quite poorly, I must say!

And my fuzzy slippers are pink. 

As for you - I'm quite relieved to hear you haven't caught an illness since the last time you had one. I think you have my Mother's Leek Soup to thank for that rather than my nursing. (It felt more like I was nagging you than nursing you back to health, to be honest. You make a terrible patient - Has anyone mentioned that to you?. Of course, I'm only joking here Barnes. You are much tame compared to when my brother had fallen ill. My god!)

Bullets and tea - is that what you associate with me, Barnes? I don't quite know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment!   
There's more to me than that, I hope you're aware. I can wield a knife, very creative it with it. Great for carving. 

On a more serious note, I do appreciate your confidence within me. Do not think it ever goes unappreciated. You're one of few who do believe in me. 

Have you managed to find the right present for this Lady of yours? Would she appreciate an art piece for her home? Perhaps if you picked something out for her - I'm sure she'd appreciate it. Particularly the sentimental value behind it in knowing you specifically chose that thinking it would look good in her home. But I suppose it begs the question whether y͟o͟u͟ have any taste in art whatsoever?

T̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶  
When would I have time for a love-life, Barnes? Honestly!   
I'm far too busy with my hands full with Father at the moment.   
And since Steve... I can't lose another person, not right now James. Not with Father the way he is.   
Besides, the men at the local club are far too interested in stroking their male egos and then some! 

It's a pity you don't work closer to where I am. I would have happily offered you to share my apartment. Help ease the financial burden upon yourself. Though if things go well with this new Lady of yours, it might happen sooner than you think. How is that going, may I ask? Have you spoken to her?

I hope the nights have been kind to you and you're not having too many sleepless nights. While I don't approve of you staying up until 2 in the morning to write me, if it helps put you to sleep, then I suppose it isn't so bad. Though I'll try not to be offended by the notion of how boring it must be to write to me that it would put you to sleep!

I've enclosed some teabags with their labels on them.   
Try the PG Tips first so you get accustomed to the taste of the tea itself.   
If you find it's alright, then try the Lipton.   
I hope these help. Particularly on those sleepless nights. 

Take care, James. 

~ 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂

Ps.: If she rejects you, tell me. I found an old Colt in the shed; I'll be more than happy to put it to some good use. Nothing major, just a lesson learned. I'm very persuasive.


	10. Dear peggy,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 8𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂,

I'm sorry. I'm not sure what else to say other than I am sorry. I'm still gonna keep my fingers crossed, though. Miracles happen all the time, Maggie. Please keep your chin up. I know it's hard right now and even downright scary. I can't tell you about the times Steve and I came home from the Doctor and told something along the lines of the same thing. 

It's terrifying. I've spent nights wide-eyed to watch him and make sure he never stopped breathing in his sleep. It was exhausting. It was scary.

Hopefully your father can get as lucky as Rogers did with his recovery. It's okay to be optimistic. Expect the worst, yes, but hope for the best. Losing parents, it's never easy. I got really bad after my mother died, a few years before my father died in the pearl harbour bombing. The wounds are still fresh, honestly. It hurts, still. But unfortunately we do have to say good-bye to them eventually.

I just hope your good-byes are delayed for decades ahead of you.

I know I'm a pain in the ass patient, too. I don't like being taken care of; truthfully it just doesn't feel right. I'm used to providing, not taking. I hope you understand that. I know you're kidding, too. You always know how to make me chuckle after a dreary day of work.

I work at a warehouse a few blocks down, which is worlds better than working at the docks like I used to. Sometimes I can still smell the ocean on my clothes, I swear! Only cons about a warehouse is how cold it can get and injuries are a common thing. Almost cut my damn thumb off earlier this week! 

As for the gift... I think I figured something out, thanks to you. It's artsy. Sort-of. Not normal arsty, but it's not cheap, I'll tell you that. I'm just praying she likes it once I finally give it to her. Brainstorming right now though, I think there's a few more things I'm gonna try to save up for, too. 

We talk, but not as often as I'd like, in truth. She doesn't live in Brooklyn, so I don't see her as much as I'd like. I think she's warming up to me a little more, though. She's the only one who hasn't turned her nose up at me when it comes to my... problems. [The PTSD, the nightmares, the anxiety. Not that she's exposed to it often, she just knows that it's there and she still hasn't run for the hills.]

Can I be honest with you?  
I'm scared.  
I'm down right terrified.  
It's less than likely she feels anything remotely close to what I feel for her, but the thought of rejection or her finding disgust in me is scary. She's so beautiful. She's so sweet. She's so kind. She's fierce when she needs to be, and her smile makes my heart skip a beat, I swear. When she laughs, which isn't often from what I've noticed, it's like being on cloud nine. The whole world just feels so fucking perfect when she's with me, Peggy. I love her. I really do. She's not like any other girl I've ever met, and not just because she didn't roll over for the Barnes Charm.

To think that I may blow it, or may lose her? Christ. It's scary. I think I rather take my chances back in the war. 

I'm sorry, I don't mean to bore you with my puppy-love.

The teas were actually good! One of them made me feel a little drowsy though, but in a good way. Warm, tired. It was nice. Thank you, Pegs. To make up for it, I went down to the pier today and got some of that taffy I told you about before. There should be a box with this, if not showing up shortly after.

The tan one with the red lookin' things? That's cookie dough, it's my favorite. There's a whole bunch of different ones in that box - cinnamon, bubblegum, caramel, cherry, chocolate. The list goes on. Share some with your folks? Tell me what you guys think and maybe I'll send more!

And as much as I appreciate your offer to "persuade her", I think I'll turn that down. Rather her love me for me and not because she was held at gun point.

-𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂


	11. Dearest James,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟷𝟸𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼,

I am delighted to inform you that Father is improving! It has been an exhausting 2¹/² weeks for all.   
You mentioned you spent sleepless nights while Steve was suffering through the same illness; we did too. Though, it was made easier when Mother and I took turns, rather. Regardless, it has been exhausting nonetheless.   
I must admit, my strength faltered for a moment or two. I feel rather guilty for weeping at his bedside and helplessly praying (Begging! Could you believe?). We really thought we were about to lose him James.   
I was scared; I never felt fear like that. How I do truly empathise with you now. 

I'm sorry to hear the wounds are still fresh regarding the loss of your parents. Although my own wounds of losing my brother have quickly healed, I do miss him a great deal. So I understand, James. I truly do. There have been times - particularly as of recent, when I could use his advice. It only makes me miss him all the more. I'm sure it's the same for you when you need the type of advice only that person can give. 

Though it seems fear is a common theme in the air despite the war being over. 

Just be careful Barnes. Buying her presents that are too expensive for your budget is quite a huge risk - particularly when you're unsure if her feelings are even reciprocated. It is my dearest wish that, as kind and sweet as you say she is, that she'll return the feelings.   
It's really quite delightful seeing you in love, James. I suppose we are to say goodbye to Brooklyn's most eligible bachelor? The end of an era?

I know love can be a terrifying thing, particularly in your case. Considering that she's aware of your personal problems and hasn't 'run for the hills' as you put it, I daresay she would never find disgust in you. It astounds me how you can think so lowly of yourself! I can assure you that your Mother would be very disappointed that you ever thought such a thing!

Speaking of Mothers, as per your request upon the arrival of the box of sweets, I did indeed share some with my parents - especially now that Father is sitting up in bed and eating!   
It was a very lovely celebration of the positive turn around of his health. We were all seated on the bed with the small box between us. I filled them in on what you've been up to.   
(They wish you all the best when it comes to confessing your love to this girl.)  
The caramel taffy was a successful hit with all of us! Particularly Mother. Father enjoyed the strawberry taffy the most (at least we think it's strawberry).   
The cinnamon was my favourite.   
Thank you for that little box, James. It was very thoughtful of you. 

I'm also delighted to hear that the tea was a successful hit with you! Can you remember which tea it was that you preferred? I'll be sure to send a box in the next letter! For now, I've enclosed a few more teabags of the PG Tips and the Lipton. Hopefully this might help to remember which one it is you preferred. 

Back to this mystery lady of yours - does she have a name? Mother and Father are certainly intrigued! When do you plan on confessing your feelings? 

I suppose now that Father is back on the mend that I ought to start my Christmas shopping before the stores get too overcrowded. London is ever so busy at this time of the year as I'm sure is New York. 

It's nice to hear you happy James. I hope it all goes well because you truly deserve this. 

Take care - and no more 'near-accidents' either, Barnes!

~ 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂


	12. Dearest James,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 14𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂,

That's great! You have no idea how happy I was when reading that your father is starting to recover! It's wonderful news - your happiness is contagious in this case. Keep fingers crossed, though. We're not out of the dog-house quite yet. 

You should got out for drinks when he's 100% recovered. I'd offer to pay but that's a little hard when we're oceans away, don't you think?

The only reason I think I'm so confident in a few presents is mainly because I hardly ever see someone get her anything. Not for the lack of trying, I'm sure many have. But I think she's more likely to accept something from me - that and I just want to see her smile. 

It's not that I have such a huge thing wrong with myself, I just know that I'm not the most well-put person after what happened over-seas. Girls don't find screaming and panic fits in the middle of the night attractive, incase you haven't noticed, Peggy. I'm flattered you think me so perfect - sure you're not falling for me, Maggie? 

I'm kidding.

I'm happy you guys like the candies, too. I'll be sure to send more your way, soon. Maybe a few other things I don't think you guys actually have in England. As for the tea, the Chamomile was my favorite. It's an acquired taste - for me at least. Definitely nothing like the coffee I normally drink. At first when it came to the first sip, it tasted like chap-stick! Made me scrunch my nose up and wonder how you people drink something like that.

Then I drank a little more and realized it didn't taste as bad as it had a first. Honestly, I thought teas would sorta just taste all the same. I realize that was a stupid assumption, now.

Back to that girl... Well, I rather not share a name. Afraid I might jinx it - not sure if you believe in that superstition but I rather not take my chances. As for confession? Well, I decided I might tell her the next time I see her. Unfortunately that means I put her on the spot, but I don't expect her to reciprocate it, y'know? And I think I'll be sure to explain that to her. I just want to tell her, let her know that I feel it. Hoping it just doesn't screw us up entirely, though.

Christ, you wouldn't believe. I can't even get to sunday mass without the streets being more busy than normal. Everyone trying to get everywhere, spend a pretty dime on a thing they might not even use, but it's worth it, ain't it? Getting to see someone smile and see them light up? 

I don't know.  
That's always been my favorite part of Christmas.   
Making someone else happy.

Unfortunately not much else is new here. It's getting colder, but the furnace is holding up - Thank God. I'm thinking about getting a room mate, or moving. Maybe down at the summer home, but I don't know how well it will hold up in the winter. As much as I love Brooklyn, it's a little lonely I'll admit. Cost of living is slowly raising, too. I can cover it for right now, and I think I'll be able to for a while, but I know things like this can creep up real fast. 

Other than taking care of your father, how are things? Do you go out at all? Is it too cold to do that? What's England like? What's it like where you live? 

Looking forward to your next letter, Pegs.

-𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂


	13. Dearest James,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 𝟷𝟽𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼

My Father does thank you for your wishes and prayers. As does my Mother. Though I think he thanks you more because you also provided some sweets for his recovery. He's still very much exhausted of course. Quite tired, though the Doctor did say he's improving immensely and will be free from confines within the next day or two. It would be such a relief to see him sitting at the table eating a meal with us once again.   
The Doctor did say, as did you, that there is a risk of a relapse in health. I will still continue to pray that his health remains in an improving state. 

Oh I'm sure my Father would certainly jump at the chance of offered drinks, Mother would disapprove of course. I'm sure Father is keen to get out of bed and walk around the house, go outside even - though even I͟ strongly advise against it given his recent health scare.

It's a shame that the weather is not warmer, I'm sure a spot of tea in the garden under the warmth of the sun would be ideal for him; natural Vitamin D. 

Speaking of tea, I shall make sure to buy a box of chamomile tea and send it over the next time I'm in town. I'm quite surprised you took to the taste, I must say. However, if it helps you at night, I shall appoint myself as your supplier. I must admit I'm a little disappointed I wasn't there to see you take your first sip, I'm sure your expression would have been equal to that of an infant having a slice of lemon for the first time! The image alone is quite amusing!

I understand though, I was the same when I arrived at the States and had to adjust to drinking Coffee. It took a while, I must admit. Like you, I wondered how you lot could drink something so vile. Lack of tea bags, I was given no choice but to become accustomed to the taste. And then I was introduced to other brands that had different levels of strength and taste! It's not often I'm proven wrong, Barnes, but I was certainly proven wrong by Coffee - nonetheless! 

Of course, Dugan had given me the tip that Coffee taste nice with a bit of vodka in it. He's certainly not wrong, and the temptation was certainly there! 

It certainly sounds like Brooklyn is getting as chaotic as London! I thought I would try and do my Christmas shopping locally in Hampstead but I must brave the streets of London instead as Hampstead doesn't offer the types of gifts I am looking for.   
It's getting dreadfully cold here. Luckily the fireplace keeps the house warm - though it does seem to be used as an excuse for me avoiding doing any shopping whatsoever.

I am glad to hear that the furnace is holding up for you during the winter break. I'm half-tempted to send over a thick blanket to err on the side of caution! I hope, if you happen to find another place to stay, that it will provide more stable warmth. I must admit, I might even go apartment-hunting when I get back to the States. I thought with the war over that things would become easier; but prices are increasing as the economy is rebuilding itself. Understandable, of course, but quite inconvenient.   
A roommate for you would be beneficial financial-wise, help ease the burden - though your restless nights might become a concern.

I'm sorry to hear you still suffer greatly, James. Unfortunately, there is not a lot that can be done in these circumstances. I still suffer the odd nightmare on occasion. It leaves me in quite a startled state, sometimes I'm unable to fall back asleep. Deep breaths, remind yourself the war is over, you're not back there. A cup of tea and a distraction certainly help. I hope nights become easier for you if it happens to be successful between you and this mystery girl of yours. 

I must say, I'm quite surprised to hear you believe in superstition; not wanting to 'jinx' your chances by stating her name. Honestly Barnes, it's a little childish, don't you think? Nevertheless... I ought to go away more - I'm learning quite a lot about you through letters than I did in person! 

My answers to your questions are much like how life is for you back in the states; the days and nights are getting colder (if that is even possible!), the streets are getting busier. 

It feels like it's snowed nonstop in England as of recent. Those young boys I told you about that offer to shovel snow from the driveway for a few pennies? It seems their efforts are in vain, the poor dears. Come the next day, a new blanket of snow will have settled overnight. 

Thankfully there is a break between the snowy days. I take full advantage of this and run any errands needed while the weather is clear for the time being. Still quite cold, of course, despite how warmly dressed I am! 

Even covered in snow, Hampstead and London are still as beautiful. I have missed England, James. I hadn't realised I was a little homesick until I found myself wondering the streets at a leisurely pace and felt contentment. How silly I felt just to smile and marvel at a building! Though I suppose our buildings are structured and designed differently to what I've seen in New York. I suppose a way to describe it would be to state that our buildings are a Tudor-architectural style. If you're not aware of our history, then I suppose it's like a medieval -design but newer... does that make sense? 

Hampstead is lovely, I'm sure you'd like it given the chance. Perhaps it could be compared to Brooklyn, a quaint area just outside of a busier city. Though Hampstead is divine in the springtime with all the woodland and meadows blooming with flowers and the sound of the wildlife. It makes for a beautiful morning or afternoon walk. 

Michael and I used to take walks down Hampstead Heath, a beautiful woodland area where oak trees loom over the pathway, a bridge over a quaint pond before opening up to a meadow that is just a sea of colours with all the different flowers blooming. There's a seat up towards the end of the meadow where I used to watch the sunset over the outline of London's buildings peeping above the trees. It's very picturesque. Nothing I have witnessed elsewhere. Or perhaps I am too patriotic and biased to my own hometown. 

Heaven's above! Listen to me prattle on like an old hag! Heaven's sake. 

This letter is already long, though I hope it's able to provide you with a small distraction on a long day. 

There is, however, a question I've been meaning to ask. And I hope it's not too personal of me to ask. As I've been writing, my fingers have been suffering pain...as though I'm back there, at the facility. I've noticed when I've been on my feet for longer periods of time as well, that the pain from when K̶r̶e̶   
Is this normal? Though I suppose none if it was normal. Does this happen to you? Pain that you know is not there but still feel it like it's fresh? I only ask because you're the only one who would understand.

Mother and Father are unaware of what happened. It would break their hearts and Mother would convince me to change my career course. If I told her now, I'm sure I'd find myself tied up and being held hostage in my own room!

I best end this letter here. I'll enclose a few more chamomile tea packets for you until I'm able to purchase a box. 

Looking forward to your next letter.   
Take care, James. 

~ 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief backstory, in the original roleplay, Peggy had managed to get herself captured by HYDRA for two days before the Howling Commandos were able to go back for her. During that time, a HYDRA Agent named Kremer had tortured her; not to the extent of what Barnes had gone through. But they had ripped her fingernails off, continuously stabbed and sliced at her skin with a knife, letting it heal before repeating it again.


	14. Dear Peggy,

𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎: 19𝚝𝚑 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟿𝟺𝟻

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓟𝓮𝓰𝓰𝔂,

I'm crunched for time as I write this - so I apologize in advance if my handwriting gets harder to read and that this is shorter than I'd like it to be. 

I understand that feeling of being homesick. For so long, I just wanted to see the world outside of Brooklyn. The farthest I had ever gone out before being drafted was the country-side with my family to that little house. I knew the world was bigger.

And then when I stepped foot into it, I realized it was TOO big.

It was like going from the pond to the ocean. And as much as I did have the moments I did enjoy, I don't think winters are the same to me anymore. I wonder if Steve ever told you how close I was to death when it came to ambushing the trains.

I almost fell off. You think cars and warehouse accidents are too close calls? Was hanging on by a thread, practically. The handle broke and for a second, a split sliver of a second, I was falling. HE grabbed me up before I could though. Trains make me queasy now and so does the winter. I love Brooklyn. No giant cliffs or harsh mountain winters.

I missed it, so much.

So yeah, I do understand it. Even with measly brick roads and people rushing to get from one place to the next, Brooklyn is like paradise to me right now. 

You've done well with a distraction, actually. And I appreciate it, too. I feel like I've been run down these past few days, I don't think basic was as tiring as this.

As for your... phantom pain? I think that's what it's called? That's what I'm calling it. Yes, it's normal. I̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶e̶s̶n̶'t̶ ̶g̶o̶ ̶a̶w̶a̶y̶ It'll go away, soon. Sometimes my body still rattles like there's ice in my veins, sometimes in between my toes still hurt. Sometimes my head still hurts, really bad from t̶h̶e̶ ̶m̶a̶c̶h̶i̶n̶e̶s̶ it all.   
I̶ ̶s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶h̶a̶r̶d̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶m̶e̶m̶b̶e̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶s̶  
I̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶p̶e̶r̶l̶y̶ ̶t̶a̶l̶k̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶b̶  
D̶i̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶?  
D̶o̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶s̶c̶a̶r̶s̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶s̶ ̶f̶a̶d̶e̶, ̶t̶o̶o̶?

Sorry, I keep getting carried away and scribbling shit instead of actually writing. A little tired at the moment, it's still really early and I'm on a break during work right now.

I don't think you should tell them unless it gets worse. If the pain becomes more frequent, you might want to look into therapy maybe. Whether physical or mental. You were technically a prisoner of war, Peggy. That does things to people more often than not.

I may not be able to write you for a little while after this, so don't worry too much if I don't get back to you for a while, okay?  
Stay safe, take care of yourself, and be sure to give yourself a break.

-𝓑𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂


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